Take What You Can, Give Nothing Back
by vickevire
Summary: Jack and Elizabeth, marooned. Elizabeth knows that pirate saying by heart, and if Jack knew what happened he would promise to never drink more than one bottle of rum ...at least on an empty stomach. A shorter summary would be: Smut.


Approximately 96 percent of this is smut.  
Non-betad.

**Disclaimer: **Disney ain't gonna get Elizabeth back in her original condition... but she is more fun this way, I promise!

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**Take What You Can, Give Nothing Back**

_**Jack and Elizabeth are marooned (during the film). Elizabeth knows that pirate saying by heart, and if Jack knew what happened he would promise to never drink more than one bottle of rum ...at least on an empty stomach. **_

**You know the scene:** **it's night, it's the beach**, **the fire is fading. **Jack and Elizabeth, they were sitting next to each other, weren't they? His hand was entangled in her hair. They swayed and Elizabeth giggled and Jack's soft whisper "Why not?" tickled her ear, shivering down her spine. It was hard for Elizabeth to hold back, her effort was like a transparent skin, and she was quivering beneath the thin cover and - god help her - squirming under Jack, who was laying across her, his eyes magnetic. She squirmed even more when he kissed her, no matter how much she tried not to. But she didn't let go of that skin, so when Jack broke the kiss his smile was sardonic and he said "Very well then, my fair lady." And rolled away. The tension didn't leave with him, and Elizabeth pushed her head back into the sand, digging it down with longing as Jack determinedly gulped down what was left of her rum.

She knew why. It was the most important promise she had ever made, she thought as she studied Jack, now with his own bottle, trying to coax out the last lick, tilting backwards and hitting the ground. Ever since she was eleven, wasn't it so? She had been eleven and Maria thirteen. Maria had been like a forbidden fruit. Secret and exciting. They wasn't supposed to be friends; Maria was her maid, her black maid. Every giggling moment they had shared had been forbidden. And on top of that, what had they talked about? Elizabeth felt a thrilling light rush through at the memories. Maria's breasts; how they both had explored them, feeling their softness and that harder something inside, looking at her own (at the time) flat chest, giggling about babies. And Maria who knew everything, everything about the hole, and the room where the babies grew, and, more prominently; _how they got there_.

The hole. Hadn't she shown her one day? With a small calloused finger, wriggling under her skirt, the hole where the men put their _thing_ and watered so the babies grew? She had known right there and then that no matter who her father said she should marry, Will would be the one. He would be the first one to put his thing in her. She burned that in her mind with a fierce promise as Maria's cold fingers tingled her with bubbling excitement.

It had tingled then, but now it itched, something contracting, slow, insistent, building a base to the beat of her speeded heart. Thinking about this would not make her heart ease down. She glanced over at Jack, and sat up, spellbound by the image the warm firelight painted with the luring cold light of the moon. She crawled over, a transfixing drop of rum gleamed at his lower lip. She edges closer as the oh-so-familiar excitement rushed her heart on even more. She nudged at Jack, looking, breathless, waiting for a reaction. But Jack was slack and lifeless. Excitement bounced in her blood as she softly traced his arm, over to his shoulder, hands shaking as she followed his bare throat, his cheekbone, turning back to the mouth... She hesitated, and left the drop where it was, exploring his nose and down again, the cheeks, the throat. So unbelievingly beautiful. When she encountered his shirt she brushed it away, she opened it more, baring his chest, baring his abdomen _oh god..._ The thudding vibrations of her heart beat in her head, she couldn't think through it, so her hands roamed unlimited, by a will of their own.

Suddenly her mind slammed back into function; Jack might wake up! Maybe he was pretending, and- but the thought was contra productive, a hot wave rush through her, breaking in her throat. She fought back, swallowing the moan. Breathed. The night air was more intoxicating than the rum, quivering and tempting, the moon caressing and glimmering over Jack's motionless body. Her hands started to wander again, the same light, light touch - he mustn't wake up - the wave rolled over her again, oh, oh, she wanted to press into him, writhe and pull, feel those hands in her hair again ...and other places, other places too...

She let out a harsh breath and unclenched her fists, hands skimming over his bare chest, not even substantial enough to feel his heartbeat. Trickle down, following the hollows and edges from the moonlight. Bended down breathing in his hair, an unidentifiable mixture of salt and wet sand, sea and oil, spinning her head. She was crouching on her knees, on her elbows, restraining herself with every inch of her will, hovering over him; Jack between her legs, between her arms, under her body, her mouth just inches above his. That drop of rum. _Sweet god, _echoed through her mind as she gingerly licked it up, moistened his lips, tasted him. That soft prickling somehow managed to knot her belly with a rough clench, and this time she couldn't help but let the moan rip from her throat. Her neck lost strength, she rested her forehead against his, digging her hands into the sand, with her skin screaming from the absence of Jack's hands. She wanted to push down, she throbbed so hard, she couldn't keep her hips still. They crashed down into his, couldn't stop herself from rubbing and rocking and for god's sake shouldn't it be something there! Why couldn't he wake up? Stupid fucking RUM! Furiously she sat up straight, able to rock and push with more force. Pressing down, harder, harder, and - _GOD -_ there was something there, she thrust down, a painful whine filling the night. _Oh god, oh god, oh god_, was he awake? No, his face was slack, like before. But something was alive. She had to see that - thing - that something, that a man had.

Sliding down, she pulled up one of his legs, grinding just above his knee, desperate to feel something between - there - as she buried her face in his abdomen, in his intoxicating smell, her hands sneaking under his breeches, down to something almost hard, something alive. Her shaking, impatient fingers pulled the clothing out of the way, baring it, that. That Thing. She froze, except for the blood that pulsated with her thundering heartbeat. It didn't quite have the same color as the rest of him, a hint darker, a hint of some other color, and the moonlight made it a shadow, not fully risen. Experimentally, she traced it with a finger, with a nail, from the bottom to the top. Her hips had started to grind again, she followed it to the bottom, enclosing it with her hand as she stroke upwards, feeling it stiffen, sensing a vague push from his hips. A bolt of ache pierced her, and she clenched, and that made it grow, standing. She traced it with fever rushing in her mind. Even if- her promise- but god she had to feel something - hard - this something, between her legs. It was so wet there now and the throbbing pounded through her hole body. She just had to feel it grazing a bit. Not inside. She tore at her clothes to get them out of the way. Only grazing. Her stomach was clenched as she straddled him just below, skin to skin, inching closer till the hardness connected with her - pulsating - wet - ache. A harsh groan escaped her, she began to rock and she couldn't stop her moans, grazing, lifting and rasping the top of the hardness against that throbbing point. That point was her whole body, the rough mindless pleas was coming from her, she knew it, Jack's faint pushes prodding her entrance, peaking in, out, the knob pulsating and twisting, and in - in - _oh god,_ she inched down, slowly, her whole body contracting, pain, _ahhhh,_ everything, everything, it was filling her now, _oh god oh god,_ a terrified wail when the thing pushed, moving inside her, dots blinding her vision, unbearable, painful, now she was rocking again _jesus, jesus_ more, hot blinding waves rushing, faster, each thud scolded her, building, contracting, too tight, throbbing, ripping and _oh oh oh_ god it was clawing though her, bristling, tearing knots inside, filling her, _more_ oh god _more,_ she screamed, the convulsing force - splitting - the black wave engulfing her.

She emerged from the blankness sprawling over Jack, plastered in sweat, her breath still harsh and painful. _Oh god_, rang like a bell through her mind, her body heavy and lax, unmovable, but the thing was still inside her, still hard. She rose off it and rolled down on the sand. She lay there, boneless, opening her eyes with a smile. She felt so perfect, simmering in a peaceful mellowness. When she glanced over at Jack, she saw that his thing was subsiding, but still awake. A giggle ripped through her. Jack would not find this amusing, if he - god forbid - should remember. It was almost cruel, but she couldn't suppress a self satisfied, glittering smile. She rolled closer and smelled his neck, sweetness lolling through her veins. She hadn't really broken her promise. Well, technically, she had, but that wasn't the point. It was a huge difference between letting a man put his thing inside her, let a man thrust and _water_ her, and riding the man's thing herself, without any watering at all. But as she tucked Jack proper again she knew that one more night, when she had this longing curiosity in her belly... Heck, she wouldn't even last a day, alone with Jack. And it was supposed to be Will. He was in danger, for god's sake.

Something drastic had to be done.

-end-

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Elizabeth is a very wicked woman, aye?  
I've never written something **this** smutty before. 

BE BOLD. REVIEW!

I have had quite many 'hits' on this story, but not one single review. And I want them... _Pleeeeeeease?  
_Just "I like." or "Don't stop." or " Ehhh...that's weird..." ...ya know... ANYTHING!

Of course, longer reviews are v v welcome!  
English isn't my native langugae, so feel free to point out grammar mistakes. I might actuallylearn something! )


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